


Kissing You

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s07e04 Millennium, F/M, Fluff, the first few kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: After the events of "Millennium", Mulder wakes up in bed with Scully.





	Kissing You

The day begins gently, as darkness passes the fine line into dawn, and Mulder is just as reluctant to rise. He wakes slowly, languidly, wrapped up in silk, wrapped around Scully. Or rather, he realizes, with her wrapped around him. As he blinks a few times trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, he takes inventory: he’s in his bed, wearing his pajama pants and no shirt. Scully is wrapped around him and he’s not wearing a shirt. He needs a moment, just a second, to process it. Her skin is pressed against his, creating heat. He is warm, very much so, and all over.

The memories of last night come just as softly, just as tentatively. His arm, the shooting pain in his shoulder, is the first reminder. New Year’s Eve zombie attack. Maybe one day he’ll put that in a novel. Not today, though. His other arm, his good, uninjured one, is draped around Scully. He stares at it as if it weren’t his, as if his arm had a life of its own. Maybe it does. Mulder remembers the attack, remembers the hospital, the pain, the painkillers. What he doesn’t remember – and right now it’s the only thing he cares for – is Scully getting into bed with him.

Maybe, he thinks now, it isn’t even real. For all he knows, he could be dreaming. Hallucinating even. He turns his head to see her better, right here next to him. What a sight. He loops a finger around one of the cotton straps of the top she’s wearing. When has he ever seen her wear a top? And here she is, warm and soft, wearing a purple top, in bed with him.

Yeah, this can’t be real.

“Scully?” he whispers her name into the crown of her hair. A strand of hair catches on his bottom lip and he tries to free it without moving his arm and waking Scully. Any amount of using his tongue and blowing against the flick of hair is without use though.

“Why are you spitting in my hair?” she mumbles, not moving, seemingly unfazed by the fact that they’re in bed together.

“’m not,” he says, still unable to get her hair out his mouth. When she lifts her head off his chest, a lazy, half awake smile faint on her face, that’s when last night comes back to him in a rush. This face, he knows it. He’s seen it last night. This is Scully when she’s happy.

“Then what are you doing?” she says, chuckles and rests her chin on his chest, her blue eyes looking up at him.

“Got your hair in my mouth.” It’s only now that he realizes what it sounds like, how unlikely, how strange. But she knows him. She doesn’t even question it and keeps smiling.

“How is your shoulder?” As much as he wants to be honest and say that it hurts, he doesn’t want her to get up and get him another dose of painkillers. They’ll make him droopy, they’ll make him fall asleep, and maybe even forget again. He doesn’t ever want to forget what happened last night. He doesn’t want her to leave his bed either. Not now, not ever. 

“Mulder? You’re just staring at me.”

“Because you’re beautiful and I can’t believe you’re here.” Talk about starting the new year, the new millennium, just right. Though Scully would remind him that the new millennium doesn’t start until 2001. It doesn’t matter. He plans to start every year like this from now on.

“Where would I be? Someone needs to watch over you.” She touches his chest, lets her finger gently wander over his skin and giving him goosebumps.

“This is the first time you’re watching over me wrapped all around me.”

“I can move-”

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, tightening his arm around her. “Do you remember last night?”

“Which part?”

“The part where I kissed you.” Finally, he almost adds.

“Hm, which time?” she chuckles again and he falls in love with the sound, with being the one who makes it happen, with all of her.

“Each time,” he says into her hair, kissing the top of her ear and making her squeak. He’s never heard her squeak before. So he does it again, kisses her there, and she squirms in his arms. “Do you remember?”

Because he does.

The first kiss, in the hospital, was, in hindsight, nothing more than a trial run. Soft, easy and unremarkable. The second kiss was almost a miss. He leaned in, she leaned away and their mouths barely touched. They both broke into giggles after, like tipsy teenagers, nervous and uncertain.

The third kiss is his favorite.

“Hold still, Mulder,” she said, her hand on his good shoulder, her eyes fast on his. She leaned over him, so close. Her scent in his nose and he wanted more of her, wanted to taste her again, and sought her lips. “Hold still,” she repeated as she helped him out his shirt, careful not to hurt him. Mulder wasn’t concerned about the pain.

“One kiss,” he said, pleaded and bargained, “then I’ll hold still.”

“Hold still now,” she said, his shoulder almost free, “and there’ll be more than one kiss.” Mulder kept as still as a statue for a total of ten seconds. As soon as his shoulder was free and his shirt off, he sat up straight, waiting for his reward.

Scully threw the shirt behind her, not caring where it landed, and he opened his mouth to protest – not that he cared all that much – but whatever words had been on his tongue, Scully swept them away with hers. Her tongue, wet and warm, traced over his, just saying hello, teasing him, promising more, much more, in the future. Their kiss, their third one, the one that stole his breath away, ended far too quickly and he pouted.

“You need to sleep, Mulder.”

“You said kisses. Plural. Kisses.” She pressed her lips against his in a quick peck that left him wanting more. “Now lie down.”

“Only two kisses?”

“I said more than one,” she said and pushed at his shoulder, trying to coax him into bed. “You got two and that’s more than one.”

“My math geek,” he marveled and Scully pushed at him harder. He didn’t budge. Not yet. “Just one more.”

“Mulder.”

“Just one. Please. Please, Scully. Plea-” she kissed that last please off his lips and shut him up. He grinned against her lips and if she hadn’t been holding his good arm hostage, he’d have drawn her to him.

“That’s it. Now sleep.” Mulder, glancing at her, his lips glistening and his eyes smiling, just sat there. “Mulder, please. I’m tired. Please let’s just go to bed.”

“As in-” he motioned behind him and she nodded.

“So I can make sure you don’t get any funny ideas in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, with you in my bed I might get very funny ideas, Scully.”

“Tomorrow, Mulder. I’ll listen to any idea of yours tomorrow.”

And tomorrow, Mulder realizes with a grin, is now. He plans on making good on her promise. More kisses and maybe… more. Just more. Of her. Of them.

“Do you remember?” he asks again.

“I didn’t forget anything,” she replies, her eyes smiling up at him.

“What’s your opinion on morning breath?”

He doesn’t find out; her mouth – and his – otherwise occupied.


End file.
